


listen i just wanted to write werewolf david

by parsnipit



Series: jaspvid week 2020 [3]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Blood and Violence, David Acting as Max's Parental Figure | Dadvid (Camp Camp), Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Jasper Lives (Camp Camp), M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Protective David (Camp Camp), Protective Jasper, Protective Max (Camp Camp), Vampire Gwen, Were-Creatures, Werewolf David (Camp Camp), an excuse to write shapeshifters and fighting tbh, everybody protecc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24430075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parsnipit/pseuds/parsnipit
Summary: Camp Campbell is home to a variety of fantastic, mythical creatures—including a gargantuan man-eating bear and one boneheaded werewolf of camp counselor who thinks he can scare it off before it murders any of his children. Needless to say, Jasper’s got his hands full with this one.
Relationships: David/Jasper (Camp Camp)
Series: jaspvid week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762963
Comments: 8
Kudos: 100





	listen i just wanted to write werewolf david

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: violence, blood, injuries

Jasper avoids visiting Camp Campbell at pretty much all costs, but there _are_ exceptions—one of those being on a certain special somebody’s birthday. He arrives at the campground early that morning with a strawberries ‘n cream cake, a cooler of moose tracks ice cream and capri moons, and one messily-wrapped cardboard box. The campground itself hasn’t changed one bit, and seeing it sends an unpleasant shudder down Jasper’s spine. As he steps out of the truck, he’s immediately swarmed by David’s little socially-deprived hellions.

“It’s David’s boyfriend!” the blue-haired werewolf—Nikki? was it Nikki?—shouts as she claws her way up his legs. “And he’s got _food!_ Hey mister, you gonna share?”

Jasper scrunches his face as she sniffs his cheek, her wickedly sharp teeth far too close to his throat for his comfort. “I doubt David would forgive me if I didn’t.”

“Nikki, down.” The sound of Gwen’s voice is, for once, a relief. She plucks Nikki off of him, setting her down on the ground. Then she sets her hands on her hips, meets Jasper’s eyes, and sighs. Jasper gulps. Vampires have always intimidated him, and Gwen is no exception. (In fact, he thinks she’s probably the one who set the rule in the first place.) “Hey, Jasper. David’s been excited about this for two weeks. He literally hasn’t shut up about it.”

Jasper brightens, a smile tugging at his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” For all intents and purposes, she looks annoyed—but Jasper’s known her long enough to see the glimmer of fondness in her eyes. She’s a sucker for David, just like he is, and they both know it. “You’d better make it worthwhile.”

“That’s the plan!” Jasper grins, reaching into the truck to snag the cooler. “This party is gonna be totally radical, yo.”

Gwen picks up the cake and Jasper’s present, weaving her way around the curious campers and heading for the Mess Hall. “Unfortunately, the party’s going to have to wait a few more minutes. David decided to go haring off into the forest this morning, but he promised he’d be back by eleven.”

Jasper sets the cooler down on one of the tables inside the Mess Hall, glancing at his phone. “It’s past eleven now.”

“I know.” A worried crease lingers between Gwen’s brows.

“Why’s he out in the woods, anyway? Lose another camper?”

“Not as far as I know, although I haven’t taken a headcount in the last hour, so god only knows.” Gwen sets her hands on her hips. “He went out to track some bear that’s been lingering on the edge of the grounds—to make sure it hasn’t come _into_ the grounds, you know? He’s been keeping an eye on it for about a week. The last thing we want is another camper getting mauled by a…bear…uh.”

“A bear,” Jasper breathes, suddenly cold all the way through.

“Jeez, I’m sorry. I did not think that sentence through. You’re not—are you offended? If it’s any consolation you really were the last camper to get mauled so I think it’s pretty unlikely that—”

“He went after a _fucking bear?”_ Jasper’s breathing picks up, whistling through his throat. “Alone? Was he—was he armed, was he at least—”

“Oh, no, we’re not offended, we’re panicking.” Gwen holds her hands out as Jasper’s own hands begin to shake. “He had his bear spray and his knife. He says it hasn’t been aggressive the last few times he’s seen it; it’s just passing through. C’mon, Jas. He knows his way around animals and around the woods. He’s gonna be just fine.”

“Which way did he go?”

“Jasper—”

“Which way?!” Jasper feels his pupils tighten, constricting to feral slits, and Gwen steps back. “I need to know, I need to go find him—he’s late, he’s never late unless something’s wrong—”

“Northwest, past the river. Do you need help?” Gwen asks, concern glittering in her eyes. 

“Just—just stay here with the kids, I’ll be back.” 

“No, I’ll come help you. Listen, go now, okay? As soon as I find the Quartermaster to watch the kids, I’ll head out after you.”

Jasper bolts back out of the Mess Hall and into the forest—the _goddamn fucking forest._ He slows some as he enters it, the hairs on the back of his neck coming to attention. The forest has never been his friend, and he’s keenly aware of it. He yanks his phone out of his pocket, quickly dialing David’s number. It rings, and rings, and rings, and—

“Hi there, you’ve reached David Bouchard! Sorry I couldn’t take your call—I must be busy doing some super fun stuff. Feel free to leave me a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can, friend!”

Jasper’s heart clenches in his chest, and his fingers tighten around the phone. He shoves it back into his pocket, then balls his hands into fists that have his nails biting crescent moons into his clammy palms. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck _fuck fuck fuck fuck—_

He runs northwest. Damp leaves and crooked branches reach for him as he runs, snagging his hair and clothes and threatening to pull him into the shadows. Brambles catch and tear against the skin of his legs, leaving thin scratches in their wake. Vines coil around his shoes, and several times he almost trips. Once he does, skidding his palms across the thick, moldy leaf litter on the forest floor. His hands come away scraped and bleeding. 

Eventually, his panic—and his frustration with this godforsaken forest—overcome his common sense. He falls forward into his shift, body lengthening and muscles stretching to accommodate the warping of his skeleton. His center of gravity jolts, and his fingers curl back into heavy padded paws. His teeth ache as they grow, his dark blond curls smoothing out into a thick pelt. He pauses to shake off the tattered remains of his clothing, breathing hard. Then he takes a deep breath, opens his mouth, and screams. It’s a horrifying, bloodcurdling sound—as all mountain lions screams tend to be—but it’s damn well recognizable, and he _knows_ David will answer him if he’s anywhere within a two-mile radius.

For a moment, nothing but the sound of the wind and his own ragged breathing answers him—then he hears a long, low wolf’s howl to the northwest. _David!_

He springs forward again. This body is much more suited to the forest terrain, and he moves quickly. Bramblethorns glide off of his pelt instead of snagging him, and he’s low enough to the ground that he avoids most of the tree branches around him. He unsheathes his claws, digging them into the dirt to give him a better grip as he lunges through the shadows. He smells the river before he sees it, wet stone and damp moss. Through the trees, he spies a glimmer of reflected light, and he leaps. He clears the river in one smooth bound, landing on the other side without missing a single stride—he was made for the wild, as much as he loathes to admit it.

Jasper sees the bear before he sees David, and that’s what finally brings him a stop. He balks so quickly he nearly topples over himself, his tail lashing wildly to keep his balance. What Gwen failed to mention, a-fucking-pparently, was that the bear was the size of the Empire State Building. Okay, maybe that’s a _tiny_ exaggeration, but the thing is massive! It must be at least twelve feet tall standing up, and—oh, good, it has six legs, the more to maul him with. 

This camp is fucking bullshit.

In front of the bear, Jasper sees David, and relief washes through him like a cold wave. David’s alive, standing on his own four paws, and he doesn’t look like he’s too terribly injured—but his right foreleg trembles violently under him, and blood mats the dark ginger fur around his elbow. He stands a few feet in front of the bear, his ears pinned flat and his teeth bared in a savage snarl. That aggression isn’t like him, not at all, and it pierces Jasper with worry. Why isn’t he running? Why doesn’t he try to escape, to get help back at camp? Why is he just _standing_ there as the bear towers over him, all hot breath and bloodied claws and blazing eyes?

Well, if David’s not going to move, Jasper supposes it’s his turn. Fuck this shit, seriously.

His heart hammering in his chest, Jasper crouches and bunches his haunches—if there’s one thing mountain lions are damn good at, it’s jumping. He unsheathes his claws, then lunges forward and up in one swift movement, scaling the bear like a tree. It startles in surprise, and he wastes no time sinking his teeth into the back of its neck. Fat lot of good _that_ does. He gets a mouthful of wiry, foul-tasting fur and not much else. His jaws aren’t big enough to do any real damage, not to a bear of this size—or at least not to any part of its body shielded by this much pelt. 

David barks a startled greeting at him, and Jasper shoots him a furious glare over the bear’s shoulder. They are _so_ going to be talking about this irresponsible behavior later. David wilts at the look, his tail dropping. Then his eyes widen, and he surges forward and snaps at the bear’s hind paws. The bear—which had been, Jasper now realizes, reaching around to swat at him—stumbles a few steps back before dropping onto all fours—er, sixes. It swipes at David, and David darts back, barking furiously at it to draw it along. 

Seizing on the bear’s momentary distraction, Jasper claws his way further up. He holds himself on the back of its neck, his hind claws sunk deep into the tangle of its fur. He uses one paw to keep himself steady, gripping the bear’s shoulder as it lumbers forward—the other paw he lashes forward, hooking it around the front of the bear’s face and angling his claws for its right eye. He digs in deep, then tears back, and the bear roars in pain and surges back onto its hind feet. Its front paw reaches around, and Jasper tries desperately to unhook his claws from its fur so he can spring down. He’s a second too slow. The bear sinks its claws into his side and tears him off, flinging him into a nearby tree.

Jasper hits the tree trunk hard, the breath knocked out of him instantly. He crashes to the ground without even enough air to yowl in pain. The bear’s claws hadn’t pierced him deeply—he doubts he’ll have a new set of scars this time, lucky him—but he’s certain he’ll have a damning bruise tomorrow. As he gulps for breath, he sees David rush for him. The bear slams back to the ground in between them, peeling black lips away from its teeth and bringing David to a full stop with an enraged roar. David glances past it, his eyes meeting Jasper’s for the briefest of seconds. Then he bares his own teeth and lunges up, snapping at the bear’s tender nose to draw its attention away from Jasper. 

Jasper sucks in one final, ragged breath before heaving himself back onto his paws. His left side aches fiercely, but he’s not about to lay down and let his partner fight alone. As he prepares to leap back into the fray, the bushes behind him rustle, and he nearly jumps out of his pelt. Then he spies something out of the corner of his eye—something bright and suspiciously yellow, rolling out from under the bracken. He bounds towards it, his eyes widening. David’s canister of bear spray! Jackpot, baby! He may not have the opposable thumbs to use it right now, but he’s got a higher-order brain, and that’s more than the damn bear’s got. 

Gripping the canister in his teeth, he prowls back towards the bear. He bites down on the can, just enough to crumple and weaken the metal—certainly not enough to puncture it, not while it’s in _his_ mouth—then yowls at David. David, who had been giving the bear’s nose and muzzle a sound tattering, jerks back and glances over at him. When he spies the bear spray, his tail begins to wag, and he bolts wisely away from the bear. 

But he’s not fast enough, this time.

The bear surges forward, slamming a paw down against David’s haunches. Jasper hearsits wicked black claws catch on David’s flesh, hears them _tear,_ hears David shriek in sudden agony as blood splatters the forest floor. Jasper screams in terror—not David, not him, _no no no no—_ and lurches forward. He drops the canister, leaping up onto the bear’s shoulder and sinking his teeth into the bear’s ear. He yanksback as hard as he can, and blood floods between his fangs, slippery and hot. The bear howls, staggering onto its hind feet and stumbling backwards to alleviate the pressure of Jasper’s pulling. 

Jasper springs down again before it can claw him, scooping the canister of bear spray up in one paw. He bats it into the air, and then, as the bear lunges for him—mouth open, saliva stringing between its teeth—he shoves the canister into the back of its throat. It gags, its jaws spasming and clamping down on the canister. The metal creaks ominously, then bursts. A fine white mist explodes in the bear’s mouth, and it screams in sudden pain and staggers backwards. It shakes its head violently, clawing at its eyes and nose and spitting the remnants of the can out. Jasper hisses, pinning his ears at it and waiting for it to come closer—but it doesn’t. Foam begins to drip from its mouth, and he can see its eyes swelling shut. It lumbers back into the forest to nurse its wounds, its breath rattling dangerously in its throat. 

As soon as it’s gone, Jasper lunges to David’s side. “No no no no no,” he says, but it comes out a series of warped, petrified mewls. The bear had gouged its claws across David’s lower back—Jasper’s terrified that it may have punctured important vessels or, god forbid, broken David’s spine or pelvis. As he looks more closely at the wounds, however, he can see that they aren’t as deep as he feared. David bleeds steadily, but not quickly—no major arteries have been hit. As Jasper lowers his head to see if he can find any fat or bone in the wound, David jerks around and snarls at him. Jasper jumps back, his eyes wide. David’s own eyes are dark and wild with pain, pupils swollen and lips pulled back from his teeth.

Desperate to comfort his terrified friend, Jasper lays down a few feet away from him and begins to purr. It’s a stressed, rocky purr, but it’s all he can offer at the moment. David looks warily at him for a moment longer before his hackles flatten, and he licks his nose nervously before letting his lips cover his teeth again. After several seconds, he drops his head back to the forest floor and lays quietly on his side as he pants through the pain. Jasper crawls up to lay beside him, resting his head on David’s shoulder. Relief floods through him when David whines miserably at him instead of growling.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, although he knows David won’t understand him. “It’s gonna be okay, Davey. Gwen was supposed to be following me. She’ll find us soon and we can take you to the hospital and you’ll be just fine, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

David whines quietly on every exhale, his blood caking and cooling on the ground beneath them. He shifts his head back, his eyes seeking out the bracken on the other side of the clearing. Jasper follows his gaze—the shadows linger deeply there, under the brambles. Jasper looks away. David whines more urgently, trying to lift his head.

“Easy.” Jasper shifts, resting his chin on top of David’s head and easing it back to the ground. “Don’t move too much or you’ll bleed more. Lie still, okay?”

But David doesn’t lie still. He scrambles his forelegs, trying to climb to his feet, until Jasper grips the scruff of his neck between his teeth and growls a gentle warning. 

“David, you can’t do that. You’re—you’re really hurt, bud, you have to stay still.”

David’s whines progress to miserable whimpers as he slumps back down to the ground, looking pleadingly at Jasper before glancing back at the bracken.

“What? What is it?” 

Jasper returns his gaze to the bracken, and he sees one of the shadows twitch. That’s…unusual. Nervous, Jasper picks himself up, the fur on his back beginning to rise and his tail bushing out. A bear cub, maybe? Was _that_ why the bear was attacking them so vigorously? Is that what has David so worked up? Shit. Jasper has to get rid of it before the bear comes back to find it.

Carefully, Jasper stalks towards the bracken. He opens his jaws to taste the air, but nothing new comes to him beyond the overwhelming stink of blood and bear. He sets each paw down carefully as he approaches, claws unsheathed. With a mama bear of that size, who _knows_ how big the baby is? Even as he draws closer, he doesn’t see anything but shadow—impressive, given the quality of his vision in this form. He pokes his nose tentatively into the bracken, and—

“Ow! Motherfucker!” He jerks back, bringing a paw up to his nose, which had been inelegantly sliced open by a needlepoint claw. He licks the blood off of his nose—his _nose,_ what a low blow—and hisses, flattening his ears. A shadow finally breaks away from the bracken, bolting past Jasper and right for Davey. Snarling, Jasper whirls around with his teeth bared, ready to swat a belligerent bear cub halfway across the Pacific Ocean. 

What he finds is not, however, a bear cub.

Instead, it’s a cat cub of some sort. A black panther, by the looks of it, its pelt kitten-soft and dark and dappled with faint, shadowy rings. It crouches defensively next to David’s head, baring tiny milkteeth at Jasper as he approaches. It even goes so far as to hiss at him, its pupils mere pinpricks in its pale green eyes. 

David, the friendly dunce, whines and wags his tail enthusiastically when it steps on his ear.

“Who the hell are you?” Jasper asks, narrowing his eyes at the cub. 

“The name’s Max, dumbfuck,” the cub spits. “And I could ask _you_ the same question!”

“I’m Jasper,” Jasper says, his voice chilling. Max—he’s heard about Max. He’s heard a _lot_ about Max. He’s David’s pet project for the summer, although Jasper can’t say that he approves. Despite the shiny spin David likes to put on everything, Max sounds like a downright dick. He can’t blame the kid for hating Camp Campbell (they’re in the same boat there), but he _can_ blame him for being such a jerk to the world’s most wonderful human being. What’s more, he can’t help but think: _you’re the reason he came out here, and you’re the reason he wouldn’t leave, aren’t you?_

Needless to say, it makes him feel a little _bitter_ towards this puny scrap of a cat.

Max’s ears flick up in surprise. “You understand me?”

“We’re both cats, aren’t we?” Jasper prowls closer, ignoring Max’s irritated growls and sitting next to David again. He lowers his head, nudging David’s haunches gently. When his partner doesn’t snap at him again, he gently begins to groom the blood away from his wounds. He takes care not to groom the actual wounds themselves, lest he disturb the formation of the blood clots. David whines in discomfort, but he doesn’t shift away the way Jasper knows he would if the pain really were too much, so Jasper continues.

Max disagrees with that course of action, naturally.

“Stop that!” Max snaps, bristling his fluffy kitten-pelt out as best he can. He looks like a sentient hairball. Jasper’s going to need a bigger lint roller to deal with that. “You’re hurting him, asshole. I know you don’t speak _dog,_ but it’s pretty obvious, don’t you think?”

“Would you rather let him lay in his own blood while we wait for Gwen? Because I don’t think he enjoys that—besides, they’ll get infected if we don’t clean them.” A flimsy excuse, maybe—the doctors will clean them enough at the hospital. Jasper’s interference really is unnecessary, but this is the only thing he can think to do, the only damn way he can make David feel even the littlest bit better, and he intends to do it. “I’m not asking you to help. Actually, why don’t you go make yourself useful and go findGwen?”

Max hesitates, glancing back at the forest. He takes a tentative step in that direction, but David’s teeth clamp down on his tail before he gets any farther—Max yowls and whirls around, swatting his muzzle (but his claws, Jasper notices, are carefully sheathed). “Don’t touch me, damn it! We’re trying to help you here, you dumb dog.”

David glances at Max, then at Jasper, then at the forest, and slowly shakes his head.

“Alright.” Jasper sighs heavily. “Stay nearby, kit. David doesn’t want you getting lost.”

“He wouldn’t trust me to go ten feet without a map,” Max mutters, but he settles in next to David’s head and tucks his tail over his paws anyway. He watches Jasper groom David for several long minutes, then inches forward, bows his own muzzle, and tentatively begins to clean the shallow wound on David’s foreleg. David sighs quietly, his eyes closing. His frantic breathing—and his bleeding, Jasper notices with approval—has slowed significantly. 

Once he’s finished grooming the blood out of David’s fur, Jasper stands and pads a few feet away. He lifts his nose, breathing deeply, but the blood-bear stench still masks anything useful. It should be easy for Gwen to find them—if nothing else, she’ll smell the blood from miles away. Just to make sure she knows where they are, Jasper braces himself, and he screams again.

“That’s a godawful sound,” Max complains. “It sounds like you’re being murdered. Why can’t you just roar like a normal cat?”

Jasper sighs heavily. What does David see in this kid, again? And would he mind too much if Jasper just happened to…you know, maybe lose him in the woods…?

“Jasper!” Gwen bursts into the clearing a few feet to the right of him, and he jumps. “Oh thank god. What the hell happened? This whole place reeks like the Red Cross! What are you—oh, oh no—”

Gwen’s face goes ashy when she sees David, and she drops to her knees next to him. She holds her hands out, but she doesn’t touch him—she seems afraid to. He wags his tail when he sees her, whining a quiet greeting. She finally settles one hand on his ruff, burying her fingers into the thick ginger fur there. 

“Oh, honey,” she whispers. “Oh, David. What the _fuck,_ David.”

Jasper can’t wait to explain—Gwen has the _best_ reactions—but for now, they need to get David help. He butts his head gently against Gwen’s shoulder, pointing his muzzle back towards the camp and meowing pointedly. Gwen reaches out, settling a hand on Jasper’s head. Her hands are impossibly chilly, and he can feel her fingers shaking. 

“Right,” she breathes. “We need to go. I’m stronger and faster than either of you, so I’ll carry him back to camp and call an ambulance. Can you bring Max with you?”

Jasper nods—he hates leaving David, but Gwen’s right. She can carry him back more easily than Jasper can, and _somebody_ has to make sure the cub doesn’t get eaten after David worked so hard to keep him alive.

“Okay, David,” Gwen says, reaching up to brush a thumb across David’s fuzzy cheek. His tail flops happily in the dirt, his eyes sliding shut again as he whines at her. “Shh, I know. I’m gonna carry you back to camp. Try to hold as still as you can, and don’t you dare bite me. I’ll be as gentle, but this might hurt.”

She slides her arms underneath his lanky body, then lifts. David jerks, and a low growl rattles in his throat as she shifts him into a comfortable position. His teeth gleam white in the sunlight as he bares them, but he doesn’t bite. 

“Good,” Gwen murmurs. “Good, good job, David. I’ve got you. Jasper, I’ll see you back at camp—and Max? I am going to fucking _throttle_ you for this shit. Go to your tent and stay there until I get back.”

Gwen takes off through the trees, and Jasper looks longingly after her—after David, after his partner, after his _best friend._ His heart aches in his chest. Once she’s disappeared between the trees, he turns his attention back to Max. The cub crouches against the forest floor, his ears back. He looks…guilty, Jasper realizes.

_As he should,_ a low, bitter part of him hisses. _This is his fault._

A kinder part of him—a part David has tended and nurtured for years and years—urges him to move gently as he approaches Max. Max is a little bastard, and this may very well be his fault, but he’s all of ten years old. He reminds Jasper of David when they were that age, brash and impulsive and arrogant. Maybe that’s why David cares so damn much.

Or maybe it’s just because he’s, you know, David.

Either way, David loves this stupid kid, and Jasper isn’t going to ignore that fact. For some reason, somehow,David sees good in Max—so Jasper _has_ to believe it’s there. “Hey,” he says, and Max’s eyes flick up to him, angry and challenging. He probably expects another scathing remark from Jasper. Jasper doesn’t blame him. “Don’t worry. Gwen probably won’t _actually_ throttle you—too much paperwork.”

“Yeah, I know. Gwen’s all bark and no bite,” Max says, rolling his eyes. Then he hesitates, glancing into the woods. “…but he’s gonna be alright?”

“He’ll be fine. C’mon. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can see him.” Jasper leans down, taking the scruff of Max’s neck between his teeth and lifting.

“Oh _fuck_ no! Put me down or I’ll slit your fucking throat, you motherfucker, I’ll—”

“You’re too slow, brat,” Jasper mumbles through a mouthful of fur. Max curls up on instinct, tail tucking between his legs and paws folding against his chest. “Shut up and let me carry you.”

Max doesn’t shut up—far, far from it—but he does let Jasper carry him, in the end. Jasper makes his way out of the woods with his boyfriend’s blood on his fur and a cub in his mouth, and he thinks that pretty much makes for the worst birthday ever. David, when they meet him at the hospital, doesn’t think so. He’s just delighted Jasper remembered he wanted strawberries ‘n cream cake, and Jasper weeps.

But he returns to Camp Campbell the very next year to do it all over again—the only difference is that this time there’s an engagement ring on his finger and a bastard cub in their family. Oh, and there are no bears, which is always, _always_ a vast improvement in Jasper’s opinion.


End file.
